


solace at your door

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8103592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: Carolina never considered retirement as an option.Then again, she never saw Kimball coming either.





	

Back when Carolina was young, she never dreamed of being domestic.

 

Her career path was laid out in front of her as soon as her mother died and her father changed their household to be a monument to her memory. After years of being outranked in her father’s eyes by a ghost, it was inevitable that she would aspire to become more than that phantom, to become stop her mother’s ghost from haunting her. She went to high school knowing she’d be a soldier, she went to the academy knowing she would never retire until they forced her too, she went to war and knew that no matter how good she got, the legacy of a woman who never came home would follow her until she died.

 

When she joined Freelancer, she jumped at the idea of getting a new name. Anything to escape the legacy of “Church” and all it brought with it. Only at orientation, when she stared her father in the eye as looked right through her, that she realized there would be no escape for her anytime soon. 

 

No, she’d resigned the idea of living a civilian life long ago. Happy endings with white picket fences didn’t happen in her family. Which was why, she supposed, she was so surprised to find herself doing just that. 

 

Carolina looked at her kitchen, a small area that was just big enough for four. Back when Chorus offered her a house on their land after the war, she’d declined, thinking she would head out for another mission, another battle. It was only a year after the battle never came that she bothered to ask if the house was still open. A tiny place, a cottage more than anything, it sat on the same stretch of land where the Reds and Blues now resided in their own houses. Given the silence from outside, Carolina doubted any were awake yet.

 

She sipped at her coffee. Her morning run was done, and she had the day off from her job teaching recruits at the nearest base. That meant free time, something Carolina had never been good at dealing with, at least not alone. 

 

She picked up her tablet, and scrolled through her email, then the news. There was nothing of interest from the Capital except for a report about a diplomatic meeting. Carolina pulled the photo attached and grinned as she saw Kimball shaking hands with a very large, very green alien. The alien was rather slimy, Carolina thought, and she could see a layer of green sludge cover the floor. It would likely stain Kimball’s heels. To anyone who saw the photo, they would likely think her expression diplomatic. Carolina knew better.

 

She’d been seeing the woman long enough to know her “oh dear lord, I do not get paid enough for this” face by heart. 

 

And wasn’t that a surprise too; not only being domestic, but having someone to share it with. Her relationship with Kimball had come as a surprise to them both, friends turned lovers after one night of staying up too late and talking about things they’d put off for months. It was going well a year in, as well as two explosive stubborn woman in a relationship could expect. They’d likely be living together full time if it wasn’t for Kimball’s work in the capital, a full time job as Chancellor that tried the other woman’s nerve. 

 

Carolina’s tablet began to buzz. Carolina grinned, swiping up to accept it. The picture came in first, Kimball in her office, dark circles under her eyes. As she saw Carolina she leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh. 

 

“How do you feel about dogs?”

 

That was not what Carolina was accepting. Kimball’s mid day calls were usually reserved for rants that equalled Wash’s in entertaining. She sat down at her kitchen table and propped the tablet up against a napkin holder. “Never had any.”

 

“Shit.” Kimball dragged her hand down her face, smearing her likely professionally done makeup. Carolina felt sorry for the makeup artist; they likely got an earful of what was driving Kimball insane about politics every morning. “I thought we were over giving animals as diplomatic gifts”

 

Carolina couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. “Are you telling me there’s a dog in your office?”

 

“It’s not in the office; we put it in the garden.” Carolina’s smile grew wider. “Don’t laugh at me. It’s dog like, not a dog. Has the drool and the four legs going on. No fur though. And it’s the size of a horse.” She grabbed something on her table and held up what looked to be an old fashion laminated photo. On it was indeed something that looked like a dog if not for the scales, horns and size. Underneath it was a caption in a langauge Carolina couldn’t read. “Apparently, he has his own trading cards.”

 

Carolina let out a bark of laughter. “Trading cards?”

 

“He’s quite the celebrity, I’ve been assured. Bred for this purpose apparently.” KImball pursed her lips and looked both ways before speaking again. “Do you think the ambassadors will find out if I pass it onto Captain Caboose?”

 

It wasn’t a terrible option, Carolina supposed. After he retired, Caboose had taken up working at a local animal shelter with a few other veterans on Chorus. Carolina could expect weekly calls about how much he loved cats on a weekly basis. “He’s not a Captain anymore. And do you really want to give Caboose a giant alien dog and see where that goes?”

 

Kimball looked thoughtful. “It could get me out of some meetings if he causes enough property damage.”

 

“Chancellor, are you advocating property damage?”

 

“If it lets me see you, I might consider it.” 

 

Carolina couldn’t help but smile. She understood the frustration. With Kimball’s work at the Capitol, she hadn’t been able to see Carolina for over two weeks. It wasn’t the longer length of time either had gone without seeing a significant other, but that didn’t make it pleasant. 

 

“Tempting. But do you want to give the Fed loyalists more things to crucify you for?”

 

Kimball rolls her eyes. “They’d find something anyway. But you’re likely correct.” She looks at Carolina with a small smile for a moment. “Why aren’t you the one in politics instead of me, again?”

 

“Because I have a habit of punching my problems and that’s frowned upon in civilized government.”

 

“Right.” 

 

Carolina stared at Kimball for a moment. Here she was, just over fifty, with a house, a girlfriend, and something close to a civilian job as she would get. If she told herself she’d have this twenty years ago, she would have laughed in her own face. And yet here it was. 

 

Kimball was looking at her, gaze fond, and with sudden clarity, Carolina realized that she didn’t see the daughter of Alison Church, war hero and martyr, in front of her. Nor did she see the daughter of Leonard Church, war criminal. She saw Carolina. Carolina with her war history, and her competitive streak and her inability to relax for more than an hour. 

 

And she loved her anyway.  

 

“I’m coming to visit,” Carolina said. Kimball startled in her chair.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m coming to visit. This weekend. If that’s alright with you-”

 

“No, it’s more than alright-” Kimball held up her hands for a moment before lowering them. “But what about work?”

 

Carolina shrugged. “They owe me some days off.” 

 

“You’re talking a few days off? Are you feeling alright?” Carolina chuckled, and leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. She likely looked rather dopey. To her surprise, she found she didn’t care.

 

“Just a little lovesick.”

 

Kimball stared at her for a full minute before she snorted. “That was terrible.”

 

Carolina felt a blush cross her cheeks. “Yeah, it was.”

 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Captain Tucker.”

 

“Probably.” There was a knock on the door from Kimball’s side of the line and Kimball reached forward for her own tablet. 

 

“I have a meeting-”

 

“Go ahead.” Kimball opened her mouth to say something, but Carolina waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. I’ll see you this weekend.”

 

Kimball threw her a thankful smile before the line hung up. Her kitchen silent once more, Carolina leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. Closed her eyes.

  
She wondered if Kimball would let her name the dog Tiberius. 


End file.
